A Blessed Song for Their Love by Olivia Haywood
Chapter Four
One month later...
Rosaline glanced out the window of the train at the passing farms and open lands. Her heart was still beating in her chest out of fear of being caught and the shock of what she had done. Mr. Voss had almost caught her as she slipped out of her room. She hadn’t realized he’d be up at that hour and she hadn’t been prepared to dodge him.
Ducking under the stairs that lead to her small room, she had held her breath and prayed to God that he would not find her there. If he caught her he would force her to leave in the morning and tour strange farms with people she had never met.
He had walked past the stairs and even trod on her cloak beneath his pointed boots. It was a miracle that he’d not seen her then.
Now, safely on her way, she turned her attention back to her lap and the open letters that were laying there, her mind replaying the events of the past few weeks.
Rosaline had shown Donna the piece of torn newspaper on her half-day when she had gone for tea. They sat in the Granger’s sitting room by a table laid for two.
“This is a sign, Rosaline! We simply must respond to this!” Donna had exclaimed, nearly knocking over their tea. “I’ll help you. We can give my address for the correspondence, that way the Vosses never have to know. I’ll keep the letters and you can read them when you come into town for the groceries. I’ll even post the replies once you have written them.”
“But Donna, what if we get caught? I’ll never eat again.”
Donna had grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Then we must be extra careful that we don’t get caught, mustn't we? If you don’t go, Rosaline, I’m worried about what might happen to you on a stranger's farm,” Her eyes were wide with fear. “We can’t let them bounce you around like a possession.
Rosaline had agreed to go along with Donna’s plan. She had written her response with Donna’s assistance and thus began their weekly correspondence with Arthur Stratton.
They’d sat together in the field behind the store and read the letters.
The first letter had contained a confession from Arthur that his son did not know he had placed the advertisement on his behalf. He opened up about Thomas and the path he had started down in the wake of his hurt and anger.
“I fear that this will be my last chance of getting through to him,” Arthur had ended the letter.
Their hearts broke when they read about everything that Thomas had been through in the past few years.
Tears had filled her eyes as she read the words to her friend. “Oh Donna, this poor man. He’s been through so much.”
For the first time since their adventure had begun, Donna had expressed some doubt.
“But if he hasn’t written the letter himself, who says he will be willing to marry you once you get there?” She shifted her position on the grass. “I don’t know Rosaline, maybe we should leave this one and apply to another. You don’t want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing and no one. There’s still time before the end of the month.”
Yet something in the way Arthur Stratton had poured out his heart tugged at Rosline’s soul. He was so open and forthcoming in his letters. He seemed like an honest man of God who wanted nothing more than to help his son.
“I think I want to see this through, Donna. Besides, even if I am stranded with nothing and no one, will I be worse off than I am now?”
Donna was reluctant but agreed to continue the correspondence for her friend's sake.
Rosaline had reciprocated in her next letter by telling Arthur about her parents and the life she had lived for the past eight years as a maid at the Voss’ ranch.
The letters had continued for a few more weeks until they had finally decided that Rosaline should use the money she had saved to catch a train.
Together Donna and Rosaline had formed the plan that would hopefully take her away to a better life.
“I’ll buy the ticket with your money and wait for you at the station. My parents sleep like the dead so they won’t hear me sneaking out. We’d better not write to each other for a while. Mr. Voss will be looking for you and he knows we are friends,” Donna had suggested. “It’s better if there’s nothing that points to your whereabouts, at least at the start until things calm down.”
In the dead of night, she had packed her things into her valise and snuck away from the farm, hoping and praying desperately that she could leave her old life behind. She had taken all of her belongings, leaving behind the fancy dress she’d received for singing.
Donna had snuck out of her house and met Rosaline on the platform with her ticket and a parcel of food to tide her over on the train. They had held each other and cried until it was time to board.
“All aboard!” the conductor had yelled as the train roared to life, steam pouring onto the platform.
“I promise to write with news when Thomas agrees to the marriage,” Rosaline had said through tears.
“But not too soon, okay?”
Rosaline had nodded before boarding the train heading west out of Wilmington.
The train whistled and rolled to a stop, drawing Rosaline from her thoughts.
“Final stop, Baxton Kansas!” The conductor yelled down the aisles.
Rosaline’s heart beat at a pace she couldn’t control, the magnitude of the decision she had made finally catching up with her.
What if this is a big mistake? What if I get to the ranch and Thomas immediately throws me out? Where will I go? Certainly not back to Mr. And Mrs. Voss.
Her mind raced with all the possibilities, her hands sweating as she clutched the handle of her valise held tightly on her lap.
“Last stop, ma’am,” the conductor said as he poked his blue-capped head into the compartment before moving on.
“Lord be with me,” she prayed as she stood and gathered her courage to alight from the train.
At last she stepped off the train, onto the platform in Baxton Kansas, and into a new life. Her eyes darted through the throng of passengers moving through the steam. She didn’t even know what Arthur or Thomas Stratton looked like. The platform was crowded, making it hard for her to see as she strained and stood on her toes to look over the heads of the alighting passengers.
All she could see was a simple brick building that presumably served as the ticket office. Baxton station was definitely smaller than the one in Wilmington.
“Sorry, ma’am.” A passing man apologized and tipped his hat after bumping into her.
“Excuse me, I’m looking...” But he was already gone.
She looked around and saw an elderly gentleman staring intently at her from a bench, his intent gaze making her blush and shift her valise from one hand to the other.
He stood after a few seconds and made his way over to her.
“Rosaline Berry,” he said rather than asked.
“Ye... yes, that’s me,” she stammered. His confidence in who she was throwing her off.
He held out his hand. “Arthur Stratton.”
Up close, Rosaline could see the kindness from his letters reflected in his dark brown eyes. His warm voice and kindly smile set her at ease. She shook his rough hand and peered over his shoulder.
“It’s just me,” he said apologetically.
Rosaline’s heart fell but she quickly covered it up with a smile. She had been hoping on the train that Thomas would accept the news and come with his father, signaling that he would be open to this marriage of convenience his father had brokered.
“We can catch up on the way.” He took her valise and lead the way out of the station.
***
Rosaline observed the town of Baxton from atop her seat on the one horse-drawn buckboard. It was a sleepy little town if ever there was one.
Much smaller than Wilmington, the houses were small and scattered between the other buildings, simple and quaint. It was a town built for convenience rather than architectural beauty.
One mercantile store, a bank, a schoolhouse, a jail, a one ward hospital, and a saloon with a giant sign depicting the three pistols it was named after. The Three-Guns Saloon.
This must be where Thomas spends his nights gambling and drinking, she thought as they passed the wooden buildings of the town.
Children were playing and various people were going about their daily routines as they passed, hanging up washing, buying groceries, or selling their goods.
“He wasn’t pleased when I told him this morning about the newspaper ad,” Arthur said beside her. The unpleasant news immediately drew her attention away from the town.
“I hope he wasn’t too angry?” Rosaline hesitantly enquired. The last thing she needed was another angry man in her life. Even worse, a man who was angry with her. She had spent far too much of her life in fear of Mr. Voss’ explosive moods, and she prayed to God that Thomas was a kinder man. She didn’t know what she would do if he wasn’t. Her stomach churned at the thought.
Arthur looked ahead as the buckboard left the town behind and started to roll past beautiful fields. The land seemed to be greener than Wilmington’s rocky plains had been. “His bark is worse than his bite. He will come around,” he said, not wanting to lie to her. “He may be a bit rough around the edges at the moment. But he’s a good man.”
Rosaline examined his face as he spoke. The worry lines were etched deep in his skin whenever he spoke of his son.
“You’re gonna love the ranch,” he changed the subject.
“Are there many animals?”
“some cattle, horses, chickens, and a few dairy cows. But you don’t have to worry about that. Your main concern will be looking after Robbie and taking care of the house. I’ve asked the sheriff’s wife, Buena Gideon, to stay a few nights and lend a hand until you find your footing.”
Rosaline stared ahead without a word, her nerve disappearing the closer they got to the ranch.
“But don’t worry. You’ll like Buena. The Gideons are lovely people. I don’t know what we would have done without them,” Arthur continued to fill the silence.
He must have noticed that Rosaline was not as open as she had been in her letters, so he tried to put her mind at ease. “Robbie is a little fussy at the moment, but he’s a sweet child. Stout little tike just like his father, but he takes after his mother.”
Rosaline noticed the catch in his voice. “What kind of woman was his mother?”
“Lovely,” he smiled. “One of the sweetest women God ever created. Just like my late wife. People often commented that Thomas had chosen her because she was so much like his mother. Together they formed an unstoppable force of joy.”
Rosaline shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was barely eighteen. How could she be expected to fill the shoes of two women who were so clearly adored? Women whose presence seemed to linger long after their passing?
She’d never been good at living up to people's expectations, she thought as she looked at the scar on her palm before quickly turning it over when Arthur glanced her way.
“But don’t you worry about that, lass,” he winked at her. “You just be yourself and God will see us through.”
She gave him a thankful smile.
Arthur Stratton was one of the kindest and most perceptive men she had ever met. She was glad she had him on her side. He seemed to know what she was thinking without her having to say a word.
He looked ahead. “Here we are.”
The ranch loomed on the horizon, a white house with a high roof and simple front porch, surrounded by a scattering of oaks on either side. There were several farm buildings including a stable and barn. The rest of the land was strewn with pens of cattle, lazily lowing and grazing in the late afternoon sun.
“Home sweet home,” he said.
Rosaline took a deep breath and hugged her valise.
Lord be with me, she prayed once more in her heart. This has to be better than singing in taverns and bars.